


Breathless

by DistractionReaction



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:16:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractionReaction/pseuds/DistractionReaction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they tried it poor Chekov was just about reduced to tears. Sulu had struggled to sit up, gathering his lover into his arms and murmuring soft encouragement, it’s okay, I’m alright, let’s stop here for today. The poor kid was so shook up he’d barely looked at Sulu after, even though the bruises on the Pilot’s throat were yellowed at worst and they faded within the span of the day (Sulu was almost disappointed when he found little need for the cover up he’d managed to smuggle from Rand the day before).</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>In which Sulu and Chekov want to try something new, Kirk tries to help, and the world keeps getting in the way</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> Un-Beta'd
> 
> Old fic reposted her from LJ. 
> 
> Response to this prompt:  
> http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/9715.html?thread=29879539#t29879539
> 
> Notes:  
> 1 For reference sake: should be Russian for something along the lines of "Shut up", unless the internet lied to me that is...

The first time they tried it poor Chekov was just about reduced to tears. Sulu had struggled to sit up, gathering his lover into his arms and murmuring soft encouragement, it’s okay, I’m alright, let’s stop here for today. The poor kid was so shook up he’d barely looked at Sulu after, even though the bruises on the Pilot’s throat were yellowed at worst and they faded within the span of the day (Sulu was almost disappointed when he found little need for the cover up he’d managed to smuggle from Rand the day before).

\---

It took two full weeks for Sulu to convince his lover to give it another go, his cock buried deep into the trembling body above him as Chekov leaned his weight down to give Hikaru’s throat a slow, careful squeeze. Sulu kept his hands clenched at his little Russian’s waist, thrusting harder with each inch that grasp tightened, his breath cutting out into small short rasps of yes, more, Pasha please.  
But it wasn’t quite enough, and as much as he begged and moaned, he couldn’t convince that beautiful boy to tighten his god damned grip. Fuck it. Sulu surged up out of his lover’s grasp, flipping them and proceeding to fuck Pavel senseless. Afterwards, once they lay flat together in a tangle of limbs and sheets, Chekov apologized profusely, rosy cheeked and bleary eyed. “I deid not vant to hurt you, Hikaschu.”

“I know Pasha.” Sulu shook his head, drawing Pavel up and onto his chest, arms curling around those slim little hips. “But you would never hurt me. I trust you.”

“Da.” Curls tickled under Sulu’s nose as the brunette buried his face into the crook of his neck. “Ze problem is zat I do not trust myself.”

\---

Surprisingly enough, it was Pavel who brought the topic up next, while they were warming down after fencing in the gym. This time, however, Sulu decided that they needed to approach things differently. They rented a few videos with asphyxiation porn, even pulled up a few instructional holofiles on their PADDS. The more they talked about it, the more time they spent watching the videos, the more comfortable Pavel seemed with the idea as a whole.

“If you don’t think you’ll get enough leverage with your hands, we could always use a padded strap.” Sulu leaned back where he sat on one of the rec room couches, scrolling down one of the articles on the screen in their laps. “It’d let you have more force, with less effort?”

“Neit.” Pavel shook his head, flicking his own finger down the screen with a concentrated frown. “I vould prefer to use my hands. Zat way I can feel how much force I am applying.”

Sulu nodded in agreement, smiling to himself as Chekov leaned across his chest a bit, his smooth chin resting on the Pilot’s shoulder. Mild curiosity had spiked into full blown interest, excitement practically bubbling in his eyes as he scanned the page before him.

“Autoerotic Asphyxiation huh?”

Pavel nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the captain’s voice, the top of his curly little head slamming up into Sulu’s jaw. The pilot let out a pained hiss, clutching his face with one hand and looking towards Chekov, who had his own head cradled in his hands. “Owwwww.”

Sulu turned his head, eyes narrowing in a scowl at a sheepish (yet predictably smug) looking Captain James T. Kirk. “Can we help you with something sir?” Sulu wasn’t embarrassed. He didn’t get flustered by things like this- they were legal, consenting adults, and more importantly, they were off duty. There was nothing to hide. Pavel, however, was about as red as a pickled beet.  
“I think the question that you should be asking, dear Sulu, is what I can help you with.” The Captain then, without asking, slid himself onto the couch next to Pavel, effectively sandwiching the Russian ensign between the two older men. “Because this? This happens to be an expertise of mine.”  
Right. Sulu figured he’d might as well humor the man, but that didn’t prevent him from raising a single brow in a silent testament to his displeasure with the current company. “You’re an expert at choking people?”

“Ah, no. I’m actually an expert at being choked.”

Well, that made sense. Considering the sheer number of times that Sulu (and anyone else on this ship who’d ever had the fortune of gallivanting off on an away mission with their esteemed Captian) had seen someone, or something with limbs of some variety wrapped around Kirk’s throat, he wasn’t surprised that the man got off on asphyxiation.

Pavel coughed loudly, pounding on his chest until he managed to regain his composure enough to speak. “Ehm, Keptain-” “Please Chekov, you’re off duty. Call me Jim.” “Er, yes. Jim then. Ve are wery grateful for your offer, but ve would not wish to impose on your Captainly agenda-”

“Bah! Captain-shmaptain. The ship can survive without me for a few ticks, eh?” Kirk grinned, shouldering over a bit to get a better look at the PADD screen. “Now, where was I…”

Really, Sulu was certain that Chekov was going to just die of embarrassment, before they were saved by a certain green blooded pointy eared first officer. Kirk was dragged away, still shouting over his shoulder about the difference between Romulan and Vulcan grips (Sulu didn’t even want to know), and he and Pavel were left starring at the man in his wake.

“That vas…”

“Educational?”

“Pfft.”

They broke out into a fit of laughter, PADD forgotten momentarily on the table at their front.

\---

Pavel took control the next time they tried it, and Sulu was more than happy to lay back with his legs splayed over his Russian baby’s strong shoulders. “God Pasha.” Sulu groaned, rocking his hips down on his lover’s cock, urging it deeper into his body. “Now, please.”

“Da.” The navigator surged forward, driving straight against Sulu’s prostate at the same time those delicate fingers squeezed mercilessly at his throat. It was perfect. They jerked together, so close to absolution, and Sulu felt his vision start to fade, pleasure building almost unbearably until-  
“Red Alert, Red Alert.” The Comm system startled the pair just about out of their bones, Chekov’s body stilling and his hands slipping before they could reach it, leaving them panting and thoroughly jarred. “All Senior bridge crew report immediately.”

Sulu swore his way off of the bed, into his pants and all the way up to the bridge (God damned, motherfucking, if we’re not in immediate peril I swear!). Neither of them had even a breath of a moment to spare to straighten up, going directly into combat with sex-hair and mismatched jerseys. 

The crisis was dealt with, and they were dismissed from their posts a few hours later, but the mood was lost. Pavel let out a little sigh at the controls by his side and Sulu reached out, pressing his hand to the top of the other’s knee. They wouldn’t be continuing tonight. They’d probably just go back to their quarters, curl up and pass out at this point, what with the morning shift starting in just a few hours and all.

They stood when they were dismissed, Sulu’s hand just barely brushing against the small of his lover’s back. Unable to just let them go, the Captain made a comment when they past. Sulu knew that the bruises were probably just starting to form around his throat (and he was pretty sure that this was not his shirt), but rather than reply he just sent Kirk a leveled look, ushering a flushing Pavel into the turbo-lift and away from those knowing gazes.

\---

It had been a particularly awful away mission when Sulu first noticed the change in Pavel. Granted, the Pilot had been less than careful, practically throwing himself into the enemy’s grasp in order to ensure the safety of their dearest Captain. And really, the enemy captivity was pretty tame, compared to other missions Sulu’d had the pleasure of enduring. But when he’d been rescued and beamed aboard Pavel was in the Transporter room waiting, and he. Was. Pissed. Hikaru gave his lover a weak smile, but when he tried to explain himself Chekov merely pushed him along to the medical ward without so much as a word.

They returned to their room in total silence, Pavel heading straight to the washroom and locking the door behind him, leaving a rather disgruntled Sulu to sit nervously on the edge of their neatly made bed. He was fine, barely a scratch, but he’d obviously hurt his lover with his careless actions. And really, this little guilt trip of his was working. He’d thought out a full apology, complete with groveling and begging for forgiveness, but as soon as those doors slid open and Sulu caught sight of Chekov’s face, his speech promptly melted away.

“Pasha…”

“Neit.” The Pavel’s features were stark, his eyes darkened with something Sulu’d never seen in the brunette before. It was cold, and almost…hungry. “Strip. Now.”

Sulu nearly choked on his words, his tongue suddenly heavy and awkward between his lips. “Bu-”  
“Zatk`nis!”1 The phrase was unfamiliar, but the meaning behind it was clear. Sulu promptly closed his mouth, slowly and reluctantly rising to his feet. 

He’d barely finished easing off his shirt when Chekov was on him, hands fighting with the fastens of his pants to shove them down to the Pilot’s ankles. The sudden force of the other’s mouth on his own caused Hikaru to stumble, tripping over his piled slacks and stumbling back into the bed. He moved to sit up, but Pavel’s hands forced down on his shoulders, holding him with a vicious force. There was no room to speak, no room to even think, his lover’s grip sliding to push up his legs by the knees, pinning them hard against his chest. 

“You complete idiot!” Pavel’s accent was thick with furry and desperation, fingers suddenly plunging into Sulu’s tense body. The Pilot cursed at the intrusion, but it didn’t slow Chekov’s efforts, he surged forward, quickly finding a rhythm as he pressed down fully against the Asian man’s frame. 

“You fool. You moron. Vhat were you thinking!” 

“I’m so-” Sulu let out a sharp cry, his vision swimming when those nimble fingers culred within him, pressing firmly against his prostate over, and over again. “Pasha, baby I-”

Chekov swallowed his protests, kissing him fiercely, brutally. Fingers pulled out, leaving him empty for a breathless moment before something harder, blunter pushed against him, Pavel forcing his way inside in one quick, agonizing thrust. Sulu groaned, his eyes fluttered shut as he fell back to the bed, his chest tightening with pain and desire. But Chekov wasn’t done, he barely gave the Pilot time to adjust, pulling out before slamming back in with just as much force. 

The jarring rhythm shook Sulu to the core and he struggled to keep up, to push back, with his knees pinned down by the weight of his lover’s body. It was frustrating, devastating, and incredibly arousing, being at Chekov’s mercy like this. The aggression, the power, it was there, but… it wasn’t quite there.

“P-pasha,” Sulu felt his heart stop, watching in a aroused daze as those hands raised up in front of him, snaking steadily around his throat in a merciless squeeze. 

Yes. 

He gasped for breath, body paralyzed with pleasure as Pavel tightened his grip, slamming their hips together with a brutal possessiveness that Sulu couldn’t even comprehend. Choked noises were all the he could manage, eyes rolling into the back of his head as sharp white flashed across his vision, intense and terrifying, driving straight to his cock. It was too much, too quickly, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

He couldn’t hold on, each thrust of that cock driving those fingers tighter until he could barely catch a whisp of a breath and- His body locked up with pleasure, orgasm racing through him with a blinding intensity that knocked him out cold. 

By the time he had come to Pavel had finished, but the Russian had not moved from his position deep within Sulu’s slack frame. Slowly easing himself up on his elbows, Hikaru looked on the man between his bent legs, Chekov’s face buried in the Pilot’s stomach. “P…” His voice cracked, a slight twinge of pain erupting across his throat. He swallowed heavily, taking in a slow breath before he allowed himself to try again. “Pasha? Baby?” 

The frame against his belly shuddered, curls trembling across Sulu’s skin. “I vas…so scared.”  
Sulu’s heart broke in a million pieces at the sound of his lover’s voice, broken, tired, desperately sad. “Oh baby.” He cooed, grabbing at those shaking shoulders to force Pavel up into a bone crushing hug. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.” 

Chekov buried his nose into the crook of Sulu’s neck, his breath stuttering with the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he threw his arms around the Pilot’s shoulders. “Don’t you ewer do zat to me again. Ewer!” 

“I won’t.” Sulu leaned down to rest his face in his lover’s damp curls. “I won’t. I promise.” 

\---

There were a few awkward questions with the crew when the bruises began to purple, but Hikaru wasn’t really bothered. He’d graciously accepted a medical cream from McCoy, who assured him that it would prevent any unnecessary swelling. Kirk was much less helpful, but there was no real surprise there, and when they turned him down for ‘expert advice’ for the fifth time, he finally gave it a rest. 

After that, Chekov had very few problems trusting himself with Sulu’s body. And Sulu, he tried his best not to go out of his way to get himself kidnapped by any sentient beings on his Captain’s behalf.


End file.
